


Aftermath

by hutchabelle



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exhaustion, F/M, Family, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Sex, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: Katniss comforts Peeta in the aftermath of a family Thanksgiving meal.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xerxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerxia/gifts), [merciki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merciki/gifts).



> A long while ago, xerxia, merciki, and I challenged each other with a prompt. We had so much fun, we decided to do it again, although it took me forever to write mine this time and even longer to post it here. The new prompt: headache, 1500 words, canon or AU. Love these ladies and their friendship and talent. (Originally posted to tumblr in November 2016)

“Holy crap.”

“You okay, babe? You look completely exhausted.”

“I’m so tired, Katniss,” I groan and flop face first onto our bed. “Why? Why did I volunteer?”

The mattress dips as she sits next to me and rubs her hand across my back. “Because you’re you, Peeta. You’re the peacemaker, and you’re the best cook of both our families. And because you’re a masochist who genuinely enjoys traditional holidays.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” I mutter. “Remind me again of this next year when I think it’s a good idea to torture myself for days and make my head feel like it’s going to explode.”

“Poor baby,” she mumbles and drags her hand down my back so she can tuck her fingers under the hem of my t-shirt. The feel of her nails scraping against the skin of my sore back is so, so good.

“Keep doing that forever. Please. I’ll pay you in great sex and baked goods.”

“Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal.”

“If only I had the energy for either of those tonight.”

I sound pathetic even to myself. I can’t remember the last time I was too exhausted to get turned on by my stunner of a wife, but today did it. For the first time in the entire time Katniss and I have been together, the Everdeens and the Mellarks had a joint Thanksgiving dinner. Katniss’ parents and her sister Prim’s family and my parents, brothers, and their families all gathered in our home and ate a meal.

It was intense.

My mother isn’t known for her warmth or her tact, so I spent the entire day running from the kitchen to the rest of the house so I could put out figurative fires and hope no literal ones started on the stove. Thankfully, my father kept my mom’s wine consumption to a reasonable level, and Prim distracted her with stories of life in the big city. Fortunately, the turkey and side dishes turned out as close to perfect as they could have and everything was fine. Until…

“It was probably that blow up with the pie that did it, huh?”

“Why does the world hate me?” I wail in overly dramatic fashion. “Who could have predicted a pie in my mom’s lap? We planned for every eventuality—we thought of every potential crisis, and yet—”

“And yet, your nephew managed to dump half a pie and a tub of whipped cream into her lap.”

My sigh is so despondent it burns my chest. “That was a disaster. I think my eardrums broke when she screeched. No wonder my head’s throbbing. Worst headache ever.”

“I might as well not try to hunt for a week,” Katniss jokes. “Pretty sure every speck of wildlife headed for the hills, except maybe the bats.”

I flip over and grin at my wife. “You could still find them. Best shot in the county. Right in the eye.”

“I can think of other things I’d rather have shooting me in the eye,” she teases and trails her fingers down my torso to my waistband. She hooks a finger under the denim and caresses the trail of hair that leads downward and motions for me to strip off my shirt. She’s sexy as hell, and my cock doesn’t even twitch. That’s how drained I am.

“It couldn’t shoot a thing right now. I think today might have killed it. It’s just sitting there all pitiful and forlorn.”

“You are _never_ pitiful, and that sounds like a challenge if I’ve ever heard one.” Her eyes narrow, and she flips her braid over her shoulder. “I’ll bet I can get you off tonight before you go to bed.”

“Oh, really? What do I get if you win?”

She laughs and answers pointedly, “Uh, you get off, Peeta.”

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” I admit. “And what do you win if you’re right?”

“Besides the pleasure of watching my husband fall apart because of what I can do to him?” she asks with an arched eyebrow. “I’ll think of something, and you’ll agree to it.”

“Baby, if you can make me come tonight, you deserve whatever you want. My head is about to explode, and I’m so beat I can’t move.”

She smirks and tugs her shirt over her head. “Your head _is_ about to explode, Peeta, and I’m looking forward to beating it a little.”

She settles next to me on the bed and kisses me before nibbling along my jaw and trailing her tongue down my neck. My hands lift instinctually, and the feel of her soft skin under my aching hands is like salve to my wounds. She unbuttons my jeans and fumbles inside my boxer briefs to palm my dick. It’s still limp and unresponsive, but that doesn’t mean her touch is any less welcome.

“Can you unsnap my bra for me? I’ve had it on way too long today.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” I mumble as her mouth latches onto my collarbone and she grips me harder so she can pump me a few times. “But if I have to…”

Her breasts spill from her loosened bra, and I groan and dip my head to take one in my mouth. I may be exhausted, but I’m not dead. Her nipples, dark and puckered, are one of my favorite things about her. Her strangled moan coupled with her hand tugging on my cock is the first hint that indicates she might be right.

After a few minutes, she pulls away and stands next to our bed. She pushes her pants past her hips, and they puddle at her feet. Before I can react, she rips mine from me, and I’m as naked as she is. She tugs me toward the edge of the bed and kneels between my knees.

“Still got a headache?” she asks, her eyes as innocent as her voice.

“So bad…”

“You’re bad? So, you need a spanking?” She gives my ball sac a light smack, and blood rushes to my groin. “That’s better. Very well behaved.”

“Katniss.” I release her name in a hiss of surrender as she blows on my balls and tugs one into her mouth. She wraps her hand around my length again and squeezes. “Oh, fuck.”

I’m hard as a rock by the time she takes my cock in her mouth. Her lips close around me, and her tongue flicks over the tip. She’s wet and eager and so intent that my hips jut upward against my will. Her head bobs, and her hands splay across my bare skin. I wrap her braid around my wrist and tug until she moans. The vibrations course through me, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to retain control.

“God, your mouth… Kat— Shit! Oh, fuck! I’m gonna blow if you don’t stop.”

She pops me free and scrambles up onto the bed. “I’m not stopping,” she promises and straddles me.

“Jesus,” I breathe and fix my eyes on the image of Katniss sliding up and down my dick. Her tits bounce as she slaps against me. Her gray eyes glow as her mouth draws into a sexy, open-mouthed pout. She rears back, and I find her clit with my thumb. The sound of her groan makes my balls tighten, and I know I’m seconds from losing it. She chants my name as I rub her and buck my hips into her.

Katniss rocks harder, and I bellow as I spurt. Lights flash behind my eyes, and fire blazes through me from my fingertips to my toes. She continues to ride me with sexy yelps that indicate she’s nearing the peak, and I pull her down on top of me to pinch her nipple between my teeth. She breaks with a wail, and her walls flutter and pulse.

We shake together as we come down, and it’s several minutes before either of us can do more than moan. Finally, she raises her head and mumbles, “Do either of your heads still hurt?”

“No. Yes. Everything and nothing hurts,” I groan with a half-laugh.

“Do you want me to rub you down? Don’t want to ride you hard and put you away wet.”

I can’t stop the chuckle that bubbles from me, and she grins in satisfaction. She cuddles closer to me and bites my ear until I grunt.

“I love you, sweetheart. You’re amazing, but if I don’t sleep now, I’m going to die so hard not even your mouth can get me that way again.”

“That sounds like another challenge, but I don’t have the strength to try again tonight.”

“Can we just sleep right here, or do I have to put my head on a pillow?”

She laughs and sits up. “Come on, big, strong, gorgeous, amazing husband. Time to sleep. No more family dinners, and no more headaches.”

“Survived the day. Survived the aftermath. Good night, Kat.”

“Good night, Peeta.”


End file.
